Z's Grimoire

“In my mind
I hear melodies pure and unearthly
But I find
I can’t give them a voice without you”
‘Til I Hear You Sing – Love Never Dies

I’m an unashamed Phantom Of The Opera Fan (or Phan, if you will) and could certainly write at length about any number of topics: from the musical, its sequel, the original novel, to just about anything Phantom adjacent. A deep dive on the lyrical and storytelling differences between the London and Australian productions of Love Never Dies, a compare and contrast of the 2004 Motion Picture and the stage show, my personal ranking of the actors to portray the Phantom (maybe with a specific Music of the Night category as I adore Colm Wilkinson and his performance of the song is one of my favorites, but I was less enthralled by the rest of his performance as the Phantom in the Canadian production), or any number of “did you know/notice” moments- like when the theme from Beneath a Moonless Sky from Love Never Dies (which debuted in 2010) plays during the 2004 movie during the scene where Christine is sneaking out to see the Phantom visit her father’s grave.

Ahem… As I said, I’m an unashamed Phan who has always been incredibly passionate about this story ever since hearing the original cast recording growing up. If you have any interest in any other Phantom musings, let me know, but today, as with my other music/musical musings, I want to take a look specifically at ‘Til I Hear You Sing from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Love Never Dies and my own personal connections and reflections.

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‘Til I Hear You Sing is a love song sung by a tormented soul. The anger that introduces the song quickly fades to a near catatonic depression that is impossible to ignore, especially if you’ve ever experienced a similar cycle of existing but not living.

In Love Never Dies, The Phantom, or Mr. Y, has transformed a Coney Island sideshow into, well, a slice of “Heaven By The Sea“. Writing songs to be performed in a grand concert hall, entertaining thousands, if not millions, of tourists and locals with manifestations of his genius. He has found incredible success and, especially compared to his experience at the Opera Populaire, should be thriving!

And yet, he is hollow, empty, because he is lacking the one thing that made his life complete. His unique bond with Christine. He was the spirit, Christine the voice, and when paired, their music was truly magnificent, true beauty made manifest. But without the voice, no melody his spirit produced would ever feel complete, nothing he created or saw could be beautiful. There was only darkness and his disfigured face.

So into a depression he fell, watching the days pass, knowing he had not lost his magic, but he had lost his spark and was desperately hoping, yearning, for his soul to be reignited.

“It’s time to do now as you must
And set the music in you free”
Before the Performance – Love Never Dies

You may recall a little while ago I wrote about my experience reconnecting with my love of acting when I joined a production of Shakespeare’s Love’s Labour’s Lost as Holofernes. The show ended with two songs presented by Spring (Ver) and Winter (Hiems), myself portraying Ver. It was my first time singing in public since high school.

We performed three times; our second performance was about an hour’s drive from the first and third. During that drive, I found myself questioning my singing voice.

Like many of the singing enthusiasts I’ve known, I have a tendency to mimic the actual artist when singing along, especially for musicals. Never a perfect copy, but certainly sounding more like “them” than me in terms of accentuation and intonation. In fact when I’d try to sing a song I loved in my voice alongside a karaoke track instead of the original, I found myself unable to find any voice and would be left with a weak half-hearted rendition that made me feel I simply should not sing.

But for the song I was performing in Love’s Labour’s Lost- I didn’t have another voice to mimic, just a melody to learn. Through our rehersals and the first performance, I’d worked on developing and singing the best “fem” voice I could, thankful I was able to project and grateful I’d always been decent at replicating a melody. But lacking confidence, the doubts from my first public performance in ages set in. So on the drive to the second show, I found myself trying to sing the song in different ‘character’ voices instead of my own.

Eventually, I’d landed on an incredibly pompous male voice I’d best equate to Rex Harrison in “My Fair Lady” (though more singing than talk-singing). I actually liked the sound of it, primarily I think because it didn’t sound at all like me. It sounded like the voice I’d assumed for Holofernes. Arriving at the theater for our second show, I found a moment to pull the director aside to get her thoughts. Her response: “How you’ve been singing it is perfect! Besides, when you come out for that song, you’re not Holofernes anymore, you’re not playing a man anymore. You’re presenting Ver.”

So I sang in the best voice I could muster. And through all three shows, I heard only praise from cast and audience alike. I know better than anyone my struggles with imposter syndrome, yet it took me far too long to realize how incredibly unlikely it would be for all of these strangers to lie. It was significantly more likely that my own self-critisims had warped my perception as it came to singing.

Once this switch had flipped in my brain, I could not stop singing in my own voice. Well, for a time until I lost my voice again at least.

“Eh, I bet she ain’t got it no more, not like the old days. Oh sure, she’s pitch-perfect, but empty, inside, like the flame went out of somethin’”

Arrival of the Trio / Are You Ready to Begin? – Love Never Dies

Do you remember the Tarot-themed music project I’d hoped to release last month? Well, while working to apply finishing touches, I lost my spirit. Listening to some of the tracks, I found myself feeling, well, to quote the campy 1943 movie: “She’s not in voice today!” Though in that movie Christine’s music was impacted by a love triangle involving a policeman and a baritone, excluding the soon-to-be disfigured Phantom, my struggles were primarily isolated to me.

Music, singing in particular, has always been a large part of my life. Even though I’d, until recently, exclusively sing in private, it’s always brought me comfort. Yet there have been countless times in my life where I’ve lost my voice.

There’s a reason I enjoy, or even prefer, songs where I assume a character. Confrontation from Jekyll and Hyde (two characters for the price of one!!), Stars and Javert’s Suicide in Les Mis, Halloween from Rent, Razzle Dazzle from Chicago, You’ll Be Back from Hamilton, just about anything from Hazbin Hotel (despite still not having watched it-I do love the music), or a couple more recent favorite tracks from the “Billie Bust Up” game (Fantoccio and Barnaby are both insanely fun to channel and perform). The more intensely the character diverged from me, the easier it has been for me to sing without reservations.

So why is it that after belting out “I’ve Had Enough of You” with nary a worry or care, when “One Song Glory” queues up next on shuffle, I fall mute? Between Rent, Aida, Wicked, and many other musicals I grew up listening to, songs originally sung by Adam Pascal have always been among my favorites to sing in my own voice.

But when my mind struggles, either with depression, anxiety, burnout, feeling like I need to mask, or any other stressor, my own voice disappears. I can mimic another singer or assume a character without much trouble and lose myself in the moment, but when that moment is gone, I’m right back where I was before it began. Singing “normally,” I can replicate the notes; I can still be “pitch-perfect”, but my flame is noticeably gone.

“I’ll always feel
No more than halfway real
‘Til I hear you sing once more!”
‘Til I Hear You Sing – Love Never Dies

Enter the inspiration for this long and slightly rambly post. Unlike the Phantom, I’m not yearning for an event or something significant in the world to shift (though I’ve got a two-part post ‘coming soon’ about some things in the world that could use some change). I simply desire the ability to claim the same freedom I find in character songs with my own voice, and eventually, hopefully, in my own music.

While I could point to people, or at least things people do, that seemingly impact my ability, at the end of the day, I’m the one holding myself back. Even though I know what I want, even though I can recognize the barriers I put up for myself, even though I know I feel broken and incomplete when my voice is gone… I can’t force it. As I’ve learned trying to force myself to sing will only lead to a more hopeless version of the Phantom in ‘Til I Hear You Sing.

In recognizing this struggle, I’ve learned what I need to keep that hope burning. I know I can and should allow myself to take up the space I chose. I can confront my struggles, name my desires and work towards them simulteniously. I can continue to learn about myself and continue to grow.

And someday, maybe, just maybe… I’ll freely sing, once more.